Hey Jealousy
by Pollux Unbound
Summary: He hates his indifference. What he needs is to be noticed. What he wants is someone who cares. All they want is each other. A Christmas fic. YAOI. MitRuMit. Oneshot


**Disclaimer**: I do not own Slam Dunk and its characters; Takehiko Inoue does

It was twenty-five days before Christmas. Naturally, everyone was extra cheerful for the upcoming break. I suspected people were regarding the holiday's spirit with much more joy than the impending end of the semester.

'Hey, Mitchy, tired already?' Sakuragi teased upon my heavy collapse on a bench. Indeed, I couldn't blame him because my shirt was already drenched in sweat after an hour of playing.

I didn't bother to shoot back, if only to save my lungs from expelling the air I could've employed for better use. I sprinted straight to the locker room and washed my face. I couldn't help noticing my handsome countenance in the mirror. Surely, my face was worth exalting, and not even a god could've trampled on so great a fact. Praises such as this never failed to elevate my self-esteem but apart from this, there was one thing that had been standing between me and my peaceful pondering. Why wouldn't he notice me? Wouldn't even throw a scowl. Nothing.

I decided, with good reasons, to make myself more vulnerable to attention. My plan went as such, during the practice the next day,

'Nice shot, Foxy. You made them fall behind with that one, including the girls.' I informed him with a wink. I was perhaps grinning in idiotic excess because, from where I stood, it was easy to tell it was as much a joke to him as a death threat was. Really, just where was humor when I needed it mostly? What a dork. Okay, I had to admit that wasn't a successful try.

Practice ended too soon, depriving me the chance to snatch a word from him.

Just then, when we all had retired to the locker room,

'Kogure-sempai, what's that for?' Yasuda asked, pointing to a pink envelope that slipped from Kogure's locker.

'I wonder.' came the curious reply as he picked it up.

'Megane-kun's got a girlfriend! WooHoo!' Sakuragi yelled. With the excitement he was showing, one would think he himself had finally found a girlfriend.

'Don't make a fuss, idiot. It's from a secret admirer. Haven't you experienced something like that before, when girls stuff your private spaces with cheesy things during holidays as a way of saying 'I like you'? I suppose you haven't.' Miyagi said, pompous for reasons I failed to determine. This, needless to say, offended the redhead.

'Oh yeah? You sure know a lot about it, don't you? Tell you what, you'll probably receive loads of them— from tasteless girls who take interests in mini-munchkins... and you know _whom_ that crowd _excludes_.' Sakuragi was smirking maniacally.

From anyone's point of view, these dorks were acting like pre-schoolers, giving me enough wits to conclude I just had to extricate myself before I get involved in their petty, little disputes.

'Excluded, more like.' Miyagi corrected, and this time he didn't take it too lightly.

'Hey, just because you've had the glory of having some freckle-faced dork thrusting cheese cakes in your mailbox doesn't mean—'

'Oh, please, don't be bitter. As you ought to know—' But Miyagi never got the chance to finish his remark for, as he yanked his locker open, three warm-colored envelopes with hearts drawn all over them fell on the floor. Even I was in for a great surprise.

It turned out that everyone in the team received at least one, even Akagi. I had eleven, which were not much compared to Rukawa, who had twenty. Each one had a sender's note, obviously from bimbos who spent half a day in the washroom and the other half down the corridors. In all, you can very much guess what sort of crap they'd written on the notes. More than that, it would've been less annoying if they didn't leave their names. Who the hell would check them out anyway?

This event expansively created ideas for me on how I was to handle what I was unprepared for. Next thing I knew, I was standing in front of International Bookstore, ordering four dozens of Christmas cards and envelopes.

And there I was, locked up in a four-cornered chamber, immersed in an activity unbeknownst to the outside world, summoning all the mushiness I could gather to write.

What had I to say to Kaede?

_Dear Kaede, I want a change; I don't want you ignoring me and treating me like I'm some dung on the road. Let's make a start. Let's make this Christmas really merry._

_Love, Hisashi Mitsui_

No. Too demanding.

How about,

_Kaede, you make my day cos you're so cool and cute and cuddly and I need to have you or else I'll die without a teddy bear. Be my teddy bear this holiday. Love and kisses, Hisashi-kun._

No. Too cheesy and shitty.

What about,

_Kaede, I hate to say this, but I'm gonna have to sue you. See you in court 'cos you stole my heart. Give me yours for Christmas, and I might drop the charges. Love, Mitsui_

No. Too straight-forward.

Why not,

_Dear Rukawa. As fate would have it, my heart turned to you as the hands of time would strike 11 o'clock. Ever I lie motionless, but raving all the same, for it seems that my forlorn hope shall remain as it is if we live on unconnected. Be mine. Please do consider my offer; it will save me from commencing my own delirium. May you have a merry Christmas even without me. Love, Mitsui Hisashi_

Too effing desperate.

Let's try,

_Dear Rukawa, one day I saw you in your classroom, then everything went boom. My heart went zoom when you walked past me, for it seemed my doom had come on due. I love your eyes cos they're blue, and I just hope you'd love mine too, which are also blue. When you passed by I thought I'd die. So I had to ask, 'why weren't you mine?'. Come with me in a world of delight, for who shall know what choice is right? Enjoy the holidays! Love, Hisashi Mitsui._

I'd rather die, really.

I coudn't recall how many letters I wrote. Nevertheless, I ended up deleting the receiver's name. My genius extended to such a degree in which I replaced my signed name with invented girls' names and signatures to serve as the return addresses. Reason for this was, Rukawa never read any of the cards he received. As it was, they just got tossed in the bin as though they were filthy shirts in need of hampering as soon as he got hold of them.

At the end of the day, I found myself secretly stuffing the cards I bought in _my_ locker. For some insane reason, I relied my hopes on this last-minute scheme. It was more than settled that if this didn't turn out right, I'd be in pre-corpse state, dying in disappointment and spite, not unless I gave up, then.

Darn that fox.

Next time we had practice, I deliberately ignored the bastard with all the obstinacy I could pull and acted as though he was some erratic git who couldn't catch a damn pass. Without surprises, this annoyed him immensely; I could tell he could scarcely stand being not the center of attack. I scored more than he did, by the way. And so genius me went about my business, but without absolute guarantee that he was dying to react.

When the time came that I had to pry my locker open, I made sure everyone was present to witness the entire area of the floor get covered with pink envelopes. As expected, initial reactions filled the air. I was sharp enough to notice that his eyebrows did climb a few millimeters up his forehead.

Miyagi and Sakuragi picked a handful and started reading aloud the cheesy messages I had written. I acted under the pretense that I was enjoying it and was deeply flattered. Upon finishing, almost all of the guys cheered.

The jerk didn't join in the fun.

I did the same thing on the succeeding day. I stuffed my locker with cheese crap and ignored him the whole day, which was as effective as an alien-detector, because his eyes never graced a hair of my body. In my annoyance, I trashed the cards in the bin without opening them.

'Tired of fans, heartthrob?' Kogure inquired.

'What's the point? I know what they say.' I said, much to everyone's surprise.

No luck.

I lied awake in bed, munching on my dinner. I still had a dozen of cards left, the sight of which only aggravated my anger. It wouldn't hurt if I gave it one last shot. But why would last shots be any different? He didn't give a damn, and I doubt if he ever would.

I gave it up and went to school, feeling as disappointed as though classes had just been extended till eight in the evening.

During practice, I played as usual and had four three-pointers, impressing a lot of fangirls. After that, I was the first to hit the lockers, what with my mood requiring instant departure. And when I opened mine, a black envelope was idling untouched inside.

I was to flush it in the toilet after examining its irrelevant physical aspects when I realized that it was indeed an unusual object. I tore it open to be greeted by two lines of barely comprehensible penmanship.

_Dear Mitsui-sempai,_

_I'm jealous._

Now who the fuck was this? Whatever. I wasn't in the least impressed with the sender's attempt to sound mysterious. In fact, it was the last thing I needed. So, having established the lack off importance of the object, I made my way to the water closet when,

'Sempai' It was none other than Rukawa, or Kaede as I was so fond of calling him beyond everyone's earshot. I blinked a couple of times to let his presence sink in.

'Yeah?'

'…'

'What is it?'

'I wrote that.' He informed me, pointing at the card in my hand.

'…' My eyes shifted from him to the object for I didn't know how many times.

'…'

'J-Jealous? O-Of what?' I managed to say with a great deal of stuttering. A deep-rooted fear was overtaking me. Somehow, I had the feeling that I wouldn't hear what I was dying to hear.

'Of your fangirls.'

'…' flabbergasted as I was, the words kept reverberating in my head. Till now, I can't really remember if I uttered a word in response. But even if I did, I'm quite sure I myself didn't have the concentration to understand it altogether.

'You're throwing it?' He asked, quire without evidence of disappointment which could be explained by the fact that his vocal chords were capable of only one tone. As for why he was more verbose than I was at that moment, I couldn't grasp.

'T-This? Uh, er, no. O-Of course not..._not ever_.' I answered.

What the hell was he thinking? It was the _best_ Christmas gift ever!

END

A/N: I hope you liked that one, it's kinda senseless. Reviews are very much appreciated.


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